


take me home, lay me down

by teamfreeawesome



Category: due South
Genre: Experimental Style, Fluff and Angst, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreeawesome/pseuds/teamfreeawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Canada, bright against the snow, there is a boy who cries softly under his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take me home, lay me down

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by _The Nothing Part II_ by Lady Lamb the Beekeeper. My stylistic choices for the fic mean that run-on sentences plus the lack of speech marks and capitals are intentional. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I'm just playing with them.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. <3

once, there was a boy whose fingertips spanned the width of his heartbeat, the soft pulse of it warm against his ribcage. sat at the centre of himself, he liked to take out the beating crack of it, scarred and chipped, to show it to people.

look, he says. look at what i can do.

under his fingers it beats, thump, thump, clear against the lines of his skin.

do you want to touch? he asks, and he smiles, wobbly at the corners, when no one does.

no one does because it’s scarred, this heart, and so little in his palm. fragile. one touch, a mouth, a tongue, pressed too hard against the muscle of it and it would stop, someone says. the boy is surprised, because he got here, didn’t he. he’s here, now, and it’s still beating, soft in his hands.

(in chicago, there is a boy who begs, and he is cast out on his knees. the taste of desperation is bitter on the tongue, ray, didn’t you know).

 

//

 

sometimes, somebody loves the boy’s heart for a second. they love it for a night in the dark, laughter pressed to the flex of it as they slide, skin to skin, slipping against the boy for minutes and minutes and minutes. it feels good, that, under his bones. every goodbye hurts a little bit more, though. every goodbye washes across his skin stronger, breaking a little fraction harder, and the boy’s heart pulses like it’s pained.

he laughs, fake in the back of his throat, and curls up in his bed. he’s small amongst the sheets, and everything feels as cold and anything can.

(in canada, bright against the snow, there is a boy who cries softly under his skin. he dreams of a lover made of scars; a lover who presses his ear to the boy’s chest and listens. listens and listens and listens).

 

//

 

it’s a pretty, pretty day when this boy meets a boy. our hero, little ray who was not always a ray, well - he meets a hero and he’s a drag of red across the iris of ray’s eye, bleeding into position as he frowns. this boy doesn’t want ray any more than anyone else does, but ray’s heart, it stings a little; squirms a little, and he is lost. his heart sits, hidden in his chest, and this time he doesn’t bring it out for anyone to see because the only thing that will do is make it easier to pinch the last vestiges of life from it with one quirked lip. with one raised eyebrow and the twitch of a hat.

(ray laughs and the scars stand out from his skin, because this boy might like them; might think these are pretty because this boy has scars of his own and maybe they don’t match but most scars go together pretty nice, right fraser. right).

 

//

 

giving up organs always hurts, but this time it’s not giving up. this time they’re ripped from him because this boy, he smiles, and ray – ray ray ray is lost and he’s only ever been lost like this once before and this boy is made of the reddest red that ever shone through under the covers and god, he wants to taste the beat of their shared everything and right now they’re partners and he’s ray and this is fraser, fraser, fraser, fraser.

(ray and fraser have shared heartbeats because partners always do, that’s just being a good cop, a great cop, but now his own. it won’t show its face).

 

//

 

i’ve got you, ray says in the way he hugs, because hugs say everything, don’t they. i love you, they say. i have loved you since before i knew what love tasted like and stella was wine but you are honey and pizza and freedom, and here, fraser, here is my heart my heart my heart.

(hearts grow bigger with love and ray’s just barely sits under his ribs now. maybe that’s why it’s so hard to breathe when fraser smiles).

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://teamfreeawesome.tumblr.com), if you would like.


End file.
